


Echoes in the Dungeon

by PixieKisses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Castle, Domestic Fluff, Estranged Friendship, Fluff and Smut, Ghosts, Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo 2020, Hermione Granger Bashing, M/M, Male Slash, Minor Original Character(s), Post-Hogwarts, Spirit Division
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27213172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixieKisses/pseuds/PixieKisses
Summary: When Ron accidentally opens a letter to Hermione, he is surprised to discover that he is the main topic of their conversation. However, when he receives a strange postcard, Ron realises he must act in order to save Viktor from a fate worse than death.
Relationships: Viktor Krum/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 61
Collections: RAREHPBINGO





	Echoes in the Dungeon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Harry Potter Rare Pair Bingo. Filling squares I4, I5 and N4.

Ron jumped when he heard a loud commotion outside the window to the apartment she shared with Hermione. Crossing over to the window, he threw it open ducking when Pig and an owl he didn’t recognise tumbled into the living room. Feathers fluttered everywhere, as the two owls continued to fight. The moment they began to draw blood, Ron hit the pair with an immobulus charm.

“That’s enough. Bloody hell, Mione is going to go nuts when she sees this mess. Honestly, Pig, what’s got into you?” Ron exclaimed as he took in the state of their living room before noticing the scattered letters covering the floor.

Scooping them up, Ron sorted through them absent-mindedly before throwing Hermione’s post on the little metal tray by the front door. Padding into the kitchen, Ron set about making himself a cup of tea and grabbed a slice of his mother’s carrot cake out the fridge. Sitting himself down at the table, Ron ripped open each creamy-white envelope. The first was a note from his boss telling him that enquiries were going to be made into his department, as the level of hauntings had decreased since Voldemort’s downfall in 1997. 

The second was from his mother, making sure he hadn’t forgotten that he was invited over to Sunday lunch that weekend and to wear his best shirt. Ron groaned, banging his head against the table. Ever since he’d come out to his family, his mother seemed to make it her mission to find him a husband. Why she couldn’t just leave well enough alone, Ron didn’t know. It’s not like he’d never had a relationship. There had been the hot summer fling with Terry Boot, followed by a long, tedious relationship with Ernie MacMillan. He was more interested in stamp collection than he was in Ron himself. The sex too, had been mediocre. Where Terry had been domineering and enthusiastic, Ernie had been timid and shy preferring to keep any affection firmly within the confines of their bedroom. So long as the curtains were drawn, and the lights extinguished. 

Picking up the third letter, Ron barely glanced at the name on the front before he tore it open and began to read. He sat up instantly. When he saw his name written in neat black print, Ron didn’t know what to make of it. 

_Since when had he become a topic of conversation between them?_ _What did Krum mean about him liking brooms? Of course, he liked brooms. How else were you supposed to play Quidditch? Clearly, Krum had taken too many bludgers to the head._

Curious, Ron rose swiftly, bursting into Hermione’s immaculate bedroom and over to her desk. Crouching, he rummaged through the three drawers it contained before he came across a stack of parchment, a fancy looking quill and some ink. Returning to the kitchen, face screwed up in concentration, Ron began to write. It wasn’t very long by any means. A couple of sentences if that. Pig was not best pleased with being sent back out, and to Bulgaria at that but a few owl treats soon perked him.

~*~

When Ron had first taken up a job within the Spirit Division at the Ministry of Magic, it had been with the hope that maybe, just maybe Fred would return to haunt the halls of Hogwarts like the many who had gone before him. Unfortunately, he was left with an empty gaping hole within his chest. He so threw all of his time researching everything he could about life, death and the life ghosts lived after. 

He’d been hard at work all morning and was only now taking his lunch break. One of the benefits of working for a department with so little staff was that Ron was able to be more flexible with his schedule. Just as he was passing his secretary’s desk, he stopped when he saw a familiar-looking envelope addressed to him in her inbox. Pausing, Ron slipped into the pocket of his robes before heading to The Leaky Cauldron. He grinned when he saw Harry lounging in their usual spot. The darker shadows enabled them to eat in peace without being disturbed by overzealous fans or whack jobs wanting to know what it was like to go up against You-Know-Who.

Ron grabbed himself a butterbeer and plate of sandwiches from Hannah before sliding into the bench opposite his oldest friend. They talked for the best part of an hour. Discussing the latest Quidditch scores and how Ron’s family was doing. However, something was off in the way Harry held himself, as though he were trying to disappear into the furniture. 

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Ron asked as he shoved half a cheese and pickle sandwich into his mouth and chewed.

“I’m not sure…” Harry replied with a small frown as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Ron snorted in amusement. “Well, talking bout it helps,” Ron said, demolishing half the plate in quick succession before taking large gulps of his drink.

“Yeah but it involves Ginny. And we made a promise not to discuss her,” Harry replied, rolling his shoulders as though trying to dislodge an ache within them.

“Harry...tell me,” Ron said, looking concerned at the way Harry was trying to change the subject so abruptly. 

“If you insist. Well, we broke up. It turns out; she wasn’t prepared to live with someone so fucked up. It’s...it’s the nightmares. Ginny can’t handle the nightmares. I’ve tried everything, sleeping in separate rooms, sleeping draughts, even a mind healer. Now, I found out that she’s already seeing someone else,” Harry said as he picked at a torn thumbnail, tearing from the nailbed drawing blood. 

“Bloody hell! I thought you guys were forever, you know. I mean, I know she’s my sister, and you’re well...you but, even I thought I’d be there to see you both get married or something,” Ron commented looking surprised by the news. They talked for the best part of an hour, discussing the latest Quidditch scores, and how Ron’s family was doing.

“You and me both Ron. You and me both. Anyway, I've sat here long enough, drowning my sorrows. I should get back to work. Crime waits for no man,” Harry said, downing the last of his butterbeer before standing and putting on his coat. 

“See you at Mum’s on Sunday,” Ron called jovially, finally glad to have some time alone to read his letter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Harry present. It was more that he wanted to know whether his decision to write to Viktor Krum was the right one or not. Slipping the letter out of his pocket, Ron turned it in his hands a few times before he finally lifted the flap, extracting the thin note within. 

_ Ron, _

_ I am surprised to get your note. In my letter, to Herminny, I meant that I was surprised that you liked the company of men to women in the bedroom. Do not fret; it is not something I care about. I too understand the pressures of being a full blood wizard. My own parents also have expectations. They wish me to marry a girl from our village. But, I too prefer the feeling of a broom between my thighs than a hoop.  _

_ Tell me, Ron, what you do for work? Is it exciting? I am the manager of the Bulgaria team. I enjoy it very much though I do miss being able to play. Unfortunately, my health is not what it was, and so I must resign myself to the second-best position. _

_ I look forward to hearing from you, _

_ V.K. _

Ron couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He was sure if anyone else were to look in his direction they would think he was quite mad. The walk back to his office seemed swifter than usual, the sky bluer and the world brighter. For so long, Ron had been living in a world of grey. 

~*~

Every Monday, Ron found himself waiting eagerly for Pig to return with a letter from Viktor. Hermione hardly ever stayed at the flat nowadays, opting to spend her time with Malfoy of all people. He might not see Slytherins in the same he had as a kid, but that didn’t mean he had to like it any less. Still, he’d be here waiting for the moment the slimy snake broke her heart into a million pieces. 

The moment Pig landed on the narrow windowsill. Ron leapt to his feet, shoving half a packet of cooked bacon at the owl. He ripped the letter from the owl’s foot and threw himself down onto the couch. 

_ Ron, _

_ I wish we could meet as I am curious to see how you have changed. I have news. My uncle has passed, and I have inherited a castle of some worth despite its fall into ruin. I am going to travel there in two weeks. I will write to you the moment I arrive. _

_ Meanwhile, tell me about what you wish from our meeting? I am afraid you may be disappointed in me now. I have to see many healers, and though they have fixed my spine, I still have pain. My mother suggests I take potions for the pain, but they leave me feeling queer. So, I carry on, regardless. I have inserted a recent image of myself that I hope will be to your liking. _

_ Yours, _

_ V.K. _

Ron nearly fell off the sofa in shock at the intimate photograph enclosed. A moan slipped from his lips as he felt his cock twitch at the sight of Viktor reclining on his bed. Viktor’s hand wrapped around his long, thick cock, a bead of precum disappearing and appearing as he squeezed the engorged head. 

He hastily unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his hardening cock free from within. Fisting his cock, he moaned as he mirrored Viktor’s movements. Ron brought himself close before releasing his cock. Over and over again, he brought himself to the edge until he could take the sweet torture no longer. With quick pumps of his hand, Ron moaned loudly, hips thrusting off the sofa, back arched as he came. 

The front door banged open, causing Ron to fall off the sofa onto the rug below with a thud.

“Ron? Are you here? I’ve come to collect some things,” Hermione called as she placed her keys on the small table before kicking off his shoes.

“Bloody hell, Hermione. You could have knocked,” Ron replied as he quickly stuffed himself into his trousers. 

Picking himself up off the floor, ears a brilliant red at nearly getting caught by his childhood friend. Spying the erotic photograph, Ron grabbed it. He carefully stuffed it back into the envelope with the letter. Giving her an awkward smile as she entered, sitting herself down on her favourite chair as she pulled off her heels. 

“I do still live here, Ronald,” Hermione said, admonishing him softly as she began to rub feeling back into her pinched toes.

“Do you? Because, you’ve not been here in weeks, Mione,” Ron countered, scoffing lightly in response. 

“It’s called having a life, Ron. You should try it sometime, instead of staying cooped up in this flat all the time. I can’t believe I’m saying this but, there’s more to life than work,” Hermione replied bristling slightly at the way he so quickly dismissed her.

“I know that, but my work doesn’t tend to take me places like yours does,  _ Miss International Liaison _ ,” Ron snapped back, storming out of the living room into his bedroom. Slamming the door behind him so that he wouldn’t end up saying something he’d later regret. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Ron extracted the letter from his pocket, lovingly smoothing out the wrinkles. He placed it on his bedside table before getting down on his hands and knees to pull out a small metal box from underneath his bed. Setting back on his haunches, Ron lifted the lid. Picking the letter up off his bed, Ron slid it in with the others and shut the top before putting the box back in its safe spot. Getting to his feet, he picked up a new sheet of parchment and a quill intent of sending a reply but, no matter how hard he tried, Ron couldn’t seem to get the words out. 

_ How was he supposed to top that? Should he send a photograph in reply? Or should he simply just wait for Viktor’s next letter?  _

“Ron, has Viktor sent me any letters? I haven’t heard from him in weeks?” Hermione’s voice called through his bedroom door. She sounded perplexed to find that the only mail she’d received was her daily copy of The Daily Prophet and a stack of invitations to interviews and society galas.

“How should I know? I just put your mail on the side,” Ron replied as he got to his feet and opened the door, heading into the kitchen.

Ron set about making himself a cup of tea. He turned to hold up her favourite mug as though asking a question. Her simple nod in response drove him to add a teabag before pouring over the hot water from a whistling kettle. Passing it to her, he sat at the table. Never before had the air between them felt so tense. Ron felt awkward sitting there with his pages of empty parchment and her curious look.

“What?” He asked as he sat hunched over the table, quill in hand, ink dripping from the nib.

“I’ve just never seen you write a letter before. At least not without persuasion and encouragement,” Hermione commented as she scooped two teaspoons of sugar into her cup, stirring slowly.

“I write letters every day, Hermione. It’s a part of my job,” Ron mumbled in reply as he slowly wrote his letter, blowing on the ink to dry it quickly.

“Really? I am surprised. I thought your job in the Spirit Division was to keep records of new and current ghosts living in the United Kingdom. Not writing what seems to be a personal letter,” Hermione replied in jest.

“Why are you here, Hermione? You said you had things to collect but the only thing left is a copy of Hogwarts: A History. Or are you simply checking up on me?” Ron asked, looking at her properly for the first time since she’d arrived.

Ron was the first to admit that perhaps he wasn’t the most observant of people, but the giant diamond ring adorning her left hand had him speechless. 

_ When had that happened? Did Harry know? _

Hermione he noticed had seen him staring and quickly hid her hand under the table, a blush on her cheeks as she tried to look anywhere but at Ron.

“I guess congratulations are in order. Don’t bother to tell your best friends though,” Ron said jaw tense that the woman in front of him seemed only too happy to move on with her life, leaving her friends behind without a care in the world.

“I was going to tell you all on Sunday. It only just happened,” Hermione said in an attempt to appease him as she reached across the table to take his hand in her. 

“Sunday. Right,” Ron said simply as he rose to find an envelope for his letter, not fully trusting her words.

_ Did he and Harry mean so little to her now? _

He wasn’t jealous by any means. Gone were the days where he wanted nothing more than to keep his friends as close as possible. To have someone who was truly his, that he didn’t have to share with anyone else. Years of growing up as the second youngest of seven had shown him that if you didn’t take what you wanted and held on for dear life, you would be left with empty hands. Strangely he had Viktor now in a way he now knew Hermione never had and that he'd had taken her to the Yule Ball out of fear of being outed by his friends. Homosexuality was not something that was encouraged in his home country. Ron was hoping that once they met, he would be able to persuade the man to move to London.

“I should get back. Draco’s parents are coming to dinner,” Hermione said, standing, placing her mug in the sink.

“I hope he makes you happy, Hermione. You deserve that at the very least,” Ron said, grasping her wrist when she meant to leave.

Her eyes brightened at his words. Ron blushed when she reached up to place a small kiss to his cheek, thanking him softly. Releasing her, he watched her go knowing that this would be the last time he’d see her again. Hermione had decided to lead a different life, a better life, and he couldn’t blame her. 

~*~

Returning to the office the next day, Ron sighed as the monotony of the Spirit Division. It seemed to revolve around mediating disputes between century-old ghosts. Or drinking numerous cups of coffee, whilst listening to his secretary regale him with stories of her grandchildren. 

“Mr Weasley, your four o’clock is here,” His secretary said, popping her head around the door to his office with spectacles dangling around her neck.

“Send them in Mrs Moore,” Ron replied as he hurried to tidy his cluttered desk.

“Good afternoon, sir. Did you have a grievance or complaint?” Ron asked cordially, going to offer the man a seat but quickly deciding not to. It wasn’t as though ghosts could use furniture. 

“It is my wife, Mr Weasley. She has come back to haunt me. I thought if I failed to cross over, I would get to live a life free of her constant nagging. However, she has deemed it prudent to make my afterlife a living hell,” The ghost said as he twirled his bowler hat in hands, looking incredibly put out. 

“My apologies for your, umm, hardship. What is it that you wish for me to do?” Ron asked with a terse smile. Dealing with domestic disputes was the more tedious aspect of his job.

“I need you to make her leave! Have her sent on to whichever place our spirits travel to,” The ghost replied voice rising to a shout, slamming a translucent fist on Ron’s desk. 

Ron watched the ghost’s hands clutching and releasing their grip on his hat as he glided back and forth across the small office floor. Ron pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“I understand what it is you are asking. However, I cannot force someone to cross over. It is a decision that they, themselves, must make. Would you like me to speak with your wife?” Ron asked, though he suddenly regretted it if the look on the ghost’s face was anything to go by.

“Are you mad? There is no reasoning with this woman. She is a harpy!” The ghost replied, getting more and more enraged with every mention of his recently departed wife. 

“Sir, I understand that you are upset, but I must hear both sides of the story. Before I can pass your case on,” Ron explained, as he presented the ghost with the necessary forms. 

“That is simply unthinkable. I will not have it. How much will it take for you to imprison her somewhere?” The man asked, pulling out a hefty looking money pouch and began pouring the ghostly coins onto the desk.

“Mr Murphy, your bribes are no good to you here. As I said, I must speak to your wife first. And then. Only then will I be able to do something. Until then, you will simply have to wait. Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I am late for a business meeting,” Ron said, noticing that the clock was about to strike six. 

_ Had it really been two hours? Merlin’s balls this man was a tiresome bore, and he was late for dinner.  _

“You better have this sorted quickly, Weasley. Your predecessor was not as successful, and look at him now, wandering the halls of this place,” Mr Murphy’s ghost said cackling to himself.

Grabbing his coat, Ron shrugged it on before hurrying downstairs to the atrium. It was just not his day today as he found himself stuck behind a glacial moving queue, only to be told that there was a backup of powder in the system. Ron didn’t have time to stand around waiting for it to be cleaned, and so shuffled off over to the nearest apparition point. He appeared at the bottom of the garden, wincing as he held his heavily scarred left arm. Ever since he’d ended up splinched five years ago, his arm would throb painfully as though some residual magic was left behind, as a morbid reminder. 

Ron grunted as the back door to his family home was thrown open, and his mother came jogging up the path to embrace him. Commenting on how he looked far too thin and that everyone had waited.

“I’m sorry I’m late, mum. Got caught up at work. A domestic issue,” Ron said apologetically as he stopped to kiss his mother on her powdered cheek before presenting her with a bunch of wildflowers. 

“Oh, Ronald. You are the sweetest. When will you settle down, dear?” Molly asked as she sniffed the blooms whilst ushering him into the house. 

“Mum, we’ve been over this. I’m happy with my life the way it is,” Ron said with a loud sigh as he pinched a roast potato from the dish, cursing when the hot steam burnt the roof of his mouth.

“Well, that should teach you to wait. Honestly, Ron,” Molly replied, shaking her head as she finished setting the table. 

~*~

As much as he loved his family, Ron had quickly found himself enjoying his solitude. The ability to do what he wanted, whenever he wanted was like a balm to his soul. He was pleased to discover after a quick shower that Pig was waiting for him with a postcard attached to his leg.

“Is that from Viktor, Pig?” Ron asked the tiny ball of feathers who screeched softly, pecking at the tips of his fingers before dive-bombing his pockets in search of a treat. 

“Pig, if I give you treats every time I get a letter you’ll be too fat to get off the ground,” Ron chuckled, as he playfully batted the owl away. 

After heating himself some leftovers his mother had sent over, Ron studied the image carefully. It seemed to be a ruin of some kind. Flipping over the back, Ron’s eyes widened in horror at the two simple words written in Viktor’s hand: Help Me. 

_ What did this mean? Had something happened to Viktor?  _

Turning to study the front once again, Ron grabbed a magnifying glass from the draw which instantly enlarged the image. Allowing him to see it in greater detail. He couldn’t be sure what he was looking for until...there in the top right-hand corner a phantom flashed in and out of a lone stone archway covered in thick foliage. Ron sat back to think for a moment. 

_ What was so important about this postcard that Viktor felt the need to ask for his help? If it was a simple ghost problem, surely there must be people at the Bulgarian Ministry with the skills to aid him.  _

Ron traced the two words over and over until the thin card sliced through the pad of his thumb. Two drops of blood dripped onto the back of the postcard before being completely absorbed. Ron watched, intrigued as the words morphed and changed, revealing a set of coordinates. This cemented two things in Ron’s mind. One; that the Bulgarian Ministry had already been involved and proved useless. And two, that Ron would do anything he could ensure the safety of the man he was falling in love with.

Jumping up from the table, Ron threw clothes into his trunk before penning a letter addressed to Harry should the man become concerned by his absence. Apparating to the ministry, Ron took the stairs two at a time, too impatient to wait for a lift. He knew it would result in him being fired, but Ron couldn’t take the chance. In case something horrible had happened Viktor. So he took the emergency international portkey that was locked inside his boss’ desk, imputed the coordinates and activated the broken ruler. 

Ron groaned at the sharp tug behind his navel, and soon he felt himself being spun around and around until he landed with a splash inside a large lake. Spluttering, Ron shook his head to clear the water from his face and waded to shore. Drying himself with his wand, Ron was surprised to find that he couldn’t see more than three inches in front of his face. The thick fog was so cold that Ron was suddenly concerned that there might be Dementors somewhere strolling the grounds looking for their next meal. Casting a Patronus, Ron’s Crup barked softly, nose sniffing the ground curiously. They walked slowly, side-by-side until the remains of a ruin came into focus. It was the same as what had been on the postcard. An owl hooted somewhere within the mist, making Ron jump and spin around, wand in hand. This place, wherever it made the hairs on the back of Ron’s neck, stand up as though he were being watched. 

He spent the good part of three hours investigating every nook and cranny he could find, and yet Viktor was nowhere to be found. Ron found himself growing more concerned by the minute. Realising that he was of no help to Viktor at this time of night, Ron decided to make himself a makeshift camp. It didn’t take him long to find a sheltered spot away from the howling wind, and chilling fog. Lighting a small fire, Ron warmed himself against the flame. Taking out the stack of letters he’d brought with him. Ron comforted himself by reminding him of the soft words he’d exchanged with Viktor and the stunning erotic photo within its collection. 

Ron woke with a start when he felt an ice-cold hand caressing his cheek. Opening his eyes, he jumped when he saw a small shade of a young boy looking at him with curious eyes. Swallowing, Ron sat up and gave him a small smile.

“Do you live here, then?” Ron asked the boy, making sure not to startle him.

The boy tilted his head to one side, watching him before beckoning him to follow. Ron wasn’t sure whether it was wise to follow but follow he did. Gathering his things, Ron followed carefully. They stopped at a narrow metal gate hidden behind thick, dense ivy. Ron cast  _ alohomora  _ before wrenching it open a couple of feet. Squeezing through, Ron jogged to catch up with the boy as they travelled through a series of narrow pathways and corridors. They stopped once more at a short wooden door that seemed to have been ripped from its hinges some time ago. Lighting his wand, Ron began the long descent down into what appeared to be the bowels of the dilapidated building. 

“Who’s there?” A loud, heavily accented voice called from the shadows.

“Viktor? Is that you?” Ron replied as he turned around to try and locate the phantom voice.

“Ron! You have to get me out of this place!” Viktor called in excitement.

“Viktor, where are you? I can’t see in this damned place,” Ron shouted as the dim light of his wand did nothing but cast even more shadows on the walls. 

A loud, clinking sound drew his attention. Ron took off in a run before falling to his knees in front of a large circular metal door. It appeared to be bolted securely from the outside. 

_ How had Viktor ended up here? Had he locked himself in? No. The bars were too narrow for him to reach from the inside.  _

Ron fumbled with the rusted bolt, pulling it with all his might. He fell back against the dirt as it clanged open. He saw the door open inward, and then he saw Viktor’s handsome face, and it felt like all his Christmases and Birthdays had come at once. Rising onto his knees, he stretched out a hand to cup Viktor’s handsome face, losing himself in the man’s dark eyes. 

Ron grinned when Viktor pressed him back into the dirt and loomed over him, a predatory smile on his face. Ron ran his hand through the man’s long hair marvelling at the softness. The feel of Viktor’s lips on his own ignited a fire within him that Ron knew would never be quenched. He wasn’t sure who was touching who as hands seemed to roam everywhere and anywhere, pulling and tugging until they were both completely naked beneath the abandoned castle.

Suddenly, Viktor was kissing a hot trail down his body, his breath ghosting over his sensitive nipples. A tongue, dipping into his navel, causing him to moan loudly and arch his back. Then there were the soft, featherlight kisses to his thighs that had Ron trembling with need. He had never been so hard in his life as he was at that moment. Viktor’s hot, wet tongue on his balls had him clawing at the dirt. It felt like torture. Slow, sweet torture that Ron wished would never end. 

“Oh, fuck!” Ron cursed loudly as he grabbed a fistful of Viktor’s hair and pulled, drawing a long moan from his lover. 

Viktor’s mouth felt glorious as the man worked his cock over and over, taking him deep into his throat. Looking down, their eyes locked, and for some reason, it made the act ten times more exciting than it had with any of his previous lovers. Viktor seemed to be the very embodiment of raw sex and masculine power, as he drove Ron wild. 

“You taste so good, Ron,” Viktor said as he released Ron’s rigid member.

“Fuck me,” Ron said in a husky voice as he pulled Viktor up by his hair, eliciting another groan of pleasure from the Bulgarian. 

Crushing their lips together in a heated kiss, Ron slid a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around their cocks. He stroked slowly but firmly, bringing them both closer and closer to the edge. The moment he could feel Viktor getting close, Ron let go. A hiss fell from Viktor’s lips making Ron chuckle. He loved bringing his lovers to the edge, denying them that sweet release. 

“I love the sounds you make,” Ron said as he brushed his lips across Viktor’s pulse point before nipping at the sensitive flesh of the man’s throat.

“You are different from how I imagined. Bolder. It’s hot,” Viktor replied as he slid two fingers into Ron’s mouth.

Rom hummed around the fingers in his mouth, sucking on them firmly, fluttering his tongue around the pads as Viktor rutted against the globes of his arse, a promise of what was to come. Spying his wand lying just out of reach, Ron stretched his fingers grunting in his attempt to grab the wooden instrument. His fingers wrapped around the barrel, a smirk on his face as he twisted it. Ron gasped as he felt the muscles in his arse relax and become slick. 

“What’ll be even hotter is you fucking me into the ground. How the sounds leaving my lips will echo around us,” Ron said with a purr of delight as he felt the blunt head of Viktor’s cock pressing into his body.

Ron wasn’t sure who moaned only that the sound went directly to his cock. The feel of Viktor stretching him was delicious. Ron had never felt so full. He had fantasised about this for weeks, and yet nothing had prepared him for the euphoric feelings Ron was currently experiencing. With every thrust of Viktor’s hips, Ron gasped as his lover’s cock struck firmly against his prostate, over and over. Ron’s nails bit into the firm muscular flesh of Viktor’s shoulders as he cried out in pleasure. 

“Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! Harder!” Ron cried as he met Viktor thrust for thrust, forcing the man deeper inside of him.

Ron let out a roar of pleasure when he felt Viktor bite down on his shoulder. Ron wanted...no needed more. Flipping Viktor onto his back, Ron pinned the man’s wrists above his head as he rocked his hips slowly, clenching his arse around Viktor’s cock drawing out a long, hard moan from his lover. All that Ron could hear, feel and taste, was Viktor. He was like a drug, flooding his senses and making him lose control. They fucked hard and fast, sweet and slow until the tight heat in Ron’s abdomen exploded, and he saw stars. Viktor was milking his cock with his hand, and he could feel his come coating the man’s fingers. Clamping his arse around Viktor’s rigid member, Ron slammed his hips over and over, crying out when Viktor’s fingers gripped his half-hard cock a little too tight. But, oh, how much he loved it. Ron threw his head back in bliss when he felt Viktor twitch inside of him, filling him with his seed as the man roared in pleasure.

Ron collapsed against Viktor’s sweat-slicked chest as he felt the man soften within him, before pulling himself free from Ron’s body. Grinning widely, Ron peppered Viktor’s face with soft kisses, laughing when he was rolled onto his back. It felt so deliciously right, lying here with this gorgeous man who made his world so complete.

“What happened, V? How did you get locked in here? Why did you send me that postcard?” Ron asked, suddenly remembering where they were.

He watched Viktor pull away and begin pulling on his clothes, eyes unfocussed as though lost in thought. Ron sat up and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I don’t know. One minute I was taking inventory of this place, and the next it felt as though I was being watched. A place this old is bound to have ghosts. I thought nothing of it until I started seeing things. Strange things. Shadows, moving, following me. Then came the voices, whispering in my ear as I slept. Taunting me. Telling me terrible stories. Something bad happened here, Ron. Terrible things. Murder,” Viktor said voice laced with fear as he looked around him as though frightened that something would happen just from him talking about it.

Ron was just about to ask some more questions when the temperature dropped dramatically. He shivered and reached for his clothes. Alert they looked around jumping when the temperature continued to fall, followed by an eerie high-pitched scream that had both men on their feet, wands extended in front of them.

“Show yourself!” Ron bellowed, eyes hard despite his teeth chattering inside his skull.

“Ron, let’s get out of here. I don’t want to spend another moment in this place!” The pitch of Viktor’s voice rose in fear as he reached for Ron’s hand only to yelp when he brushed something cold and wet.

Ron spun on one foot cursing loudly at the apparition of a woman beside them, eyes missing from their sockets.

“Who are you?” Ron asked, straightening his spine, keeping his eyes firmly on the ghost.

When they failed to get a response, Ron turned to Viktor. “Maybe you should try it?” Ron suggested.

Viktor swallowed audibly before giving a shaky nod, “What is your name? Why do you live in this place?” Viktor asked in his native tongue, sparking interest with the being.

The woman’s voice seemed scratchy as though it had been a long time since she’d spoken. Ron looked at Viktor inquisitively. 

“She says that we’re not welcome here,” Viktor said as his voice evened out.

“Ask her why?” Ron said in encouragement, giving Viktor’s fingers a gentle squeeze.

“Demon. There is a Demon here,” Viktor said as his eyes looked around them for a way out.

“A Demon? Like a dark spirit?” Ron frowned in concern. The last recorded evidence of a dark spirit creating havoc was The Bloody Baron. Though, years of being around students had mellowed the ghost over time.

“Yes, Ron. A dark spirit. They have abilities most ghosts do not. Possession, mind control even...even the ability to drive a man insane,” Viktor said with a small nod as he explained what the ghost had meant.

“Can you ask what happened to her eyes? Did the dark spirit do this?” Ron asked Viktor, knowing that the longer they were down here, the chances of them getting out safely was decreasing by the minute. ,

“She says, men came seeking refuge. A long time ago. They killed all the men and boys. Then raped all the women and girls. She tried to escape but was captured. They took her eyes as punishment, so that she may never find her way,” Viktor said as he translated the ghost’s words.

“Thank you. Do you know a way out?” Ron said, addressing the ghost directly.

The ghost seemed to flash in and out of existence before disappearing like a puff of smoke. Ron ran a hand over his face before turning to Viktor. “Which way did you come in?”.

“This way,” Viktor said, leading Ron down a corridor he hadn’t noticed on his arrival. 

The torches lining the walls flared into life. They strolled carefully down the corridor, eyes scanning the environment, bodies alert, as though waiting for something...anything to happen. When they arrived at the other end, back in the main body of the castle, they were surprised to find the place entirely still. They shared a look and were about to sheath their wands when Viktor’s body stiffened, and his eyes glazed over. Turning from a deep, dark brown to brilliant blue.

“Vik...Viktor? What’s going on? What’s happening?” Ron demanded gripping the man by the shoulders, shaking him as he felt his anxiety spike. 

Ron watched in horror as Viktor’s face twisted into an angry snarl and his wand was jammed into Ron’s neck. Ron took a step back, gasping when his back made contact with a cold, rough wall.

“Viktor! Fight him! I know you’re in there. Please...Viktor...I love you,” Ron begged as he moved to cup his lover’s face searching for a sign that the older man could hear him. 

Ron watched as Viktor’s face contorted once again before screaming when the man fell to the floor and began convulsing before being dragged down the corridor by an invisible force. Ron took off in a chase, his footsteps echoing around him as he scrambled to follow Viktor’s rapidly moving body. He tripped smacking face-first into the ground, fracturing his nose which was now pouring blood down his face. 

Ron looked behind him to see what had caused him to fall only to come face to face with a decomposed skeleton holding what looked to be a rotten wand. The wood was covered in algae and split right down the middle. It looked like people had tried before to rid this place of the evil spirit haunting it, and failed spectacularly. Ron grimaced at the slimy feel of it between his fingers. The core was like nothing he’d ever seen before. It seemed to be made out of bone. Pocketing it for further research, Ron looked up when he heard Viktor scream in pain. 

Picking himself up off the floor, Ron wiped his nose on the back of his shirt as he sprinted down the end of the corridor. Bursting through the door in time to see Viktor’s body being forced underwater. Gripping his wand tight, he began casting every spell and charm he had learnt during his years at the Spirit Division. The room crackled with untapped electricity forcing the spirit out of Viktor’s body and trapping him within a modified Faraday Cage. This spirit flashed in and out in anger before slowly the ghost calmed, revealing the young boy from earlier. Shocked didn’t even begin to describe what Ron was currently feeling. He hoped age had enabled the spirit to pick up some English seeing as Viktor was currently unable to offer his services.

“What do you want? Why are you doing this?” Ron asked, approaching the boy who was now curled up in a ball, eyes wide in fear.

“He hurt my papa!” The boy said in perfect English as he began to sob.

“Viktor? Viktor wouldn’t hurt anyone!. He’s a good man, a brave man. He...he inherited this place from his Uncle Aleksandr Krum two weeks ago. If he knew you all lived here, he would have left well enough alone. Did his ancestor hurt you?” Ron informed the small boy as he fell into a crouch.

“How did you die?” Ron asked when the boy buried his head deeper into his arms, ignoring him.

“Thrown out a window. No magic,” The boy sniffled, as he eyed Ron with morbid curiosity.

“Seems like you’ve got more than enough magic to me. Not many ghosts can possess a fully grown wizard as you did,” Ron said, sounding impressed by the boy’s abilities. 

The boy moved swiftly towards Ron, palms pressed against the metal cage. “Really? I thought all ghosts could do it?”.

“No. Not all. In fact, you’re the first I’ve known to do so in centuries. The other was a ghost I knew at school. Do you think if I let you out, you’d be able to be kinder to Viktor, now?” Ron replied in a tone he usually reserved for his nieces. 

“Okay. I didn’t mean to get angry,” The boy replied with an innocent smile that made Ron hesitate. 

“I think you did, kid. I’m going to make sure Viktor is okay. Then I will let you out. I promise,” Ron said gently as he moved away from the Faraday cage over to where Viktor was laid on the floor, sopping wet.

Ron brushed Viktor’s hair out of his face as he checked to see if the man was breathing. He could feel Viktor’s heart beating slowly under his hand and knew that if he didn’t act now, the man would probably end up a vegetable. 

“Enneverate,” Ron said with a flick of his wrist.

Viktor’s chest rose sharply as the man gasped, eyes flying open as he looked about him in shock. He coughed and spluttered, bringing up lungfuls of water. Ron gently rubbed the man’s back until he was sure Viktor would be okay on his own.

“Now, remember. Play nice,” Ron said sternly at the kid who blushed and nodded his small head sheepishly.

Ron dismantled the cage jumping backwards when the boy floated through the metal surface, giggling hysterically before disappearing through the wall.

“A thank you would have been nice,” Ron shouted after the spirit shaking his head in amusement.

~*~

Ron had never been so happy to get away from a place since he and Harry had wandered into the Acromantula den back in 1992. He shivered at the memory of the giant arachnids chasing them through the forest.

Viktor had been quiet when they’d returned to his family’s home in Sofia. It was sleek and modern, and Ron felt awkward standing in somewhere so clean and shiny. Ron hesitated before approaching Viktor who was leaning against the wall looking out into the street below.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ron suggested only to regret it when Viktor tensed.

“It brought back bad memories. Memories, I wished to stay hidden. From when I was at Hogwarts. I don’t like fog. It clouds my brain. Ron, I am frightened of losing myself. I thought coming back here would rid me of those thoughts, but it appears it has not,” Viktor replied, rubbing his tired eyes.

“Then come back with me, to London. Granted, my flat is not as fancy as this place. But, it’s comfortable,” Ron replied, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s waist, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I love you too, Ron,” Viktor said, relaxing into the man’s arms, a content smile on his lips.

~*~

Ron stood awkwardly in the doorway to his flat as Viktor inspected every room. He seemed fascinated by the Muggle appliances Hermione had insisted they install, particularly the kettle. 

“This is perfect, Ron. It feels like a home,” Viktor said, stalking towards him.

Ron grinned as Viktor smashed their lips together, dragging him in allowing the front door to slam behind them. They tripped over the rug, landing awkwardly onto the sofa. Hands roamed everywhere as clothes were pulled roughly and discarded around the room. Ron moaned when he was effortlessly flipped onto his stomach. The cool leather fabric felt wonderful against his hardening cock. As did the feel of Viktor placing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his spine whilst his hands massaged the firm globes of his arse. Ron pressed his hips back against Viktor’s lost in the feel of the man’s touch as he gripped the arm of the sofa, seeking more.

He heard the familiar incantation of the lubrication charm they’d used earlier. He groaned as Viktor slid his middle finger inside his body, stretching him and preparing him. Their fuck a week ago had been quick and frenzied, and he’d been so turned on it hadn’t taken much preparation at all before he was taking Viktor’s cock all the way to the hilt. This time was different. Slow and sensual. It might not have the same level of urgency, but it was leaving Ron hot and needy all the same. 

“I want to touch you,” Ron said, voice thick with lust, as he looked at Viktor over his freckled shoulder.

Ron watched Viktor climb off the sofa before extending his hand to Ron. Taking it, Ron grinned as he was pulled to his feet, only to be met with a fierce kiss that left him breathless. He led Viktor into his bedroom, pulling him down on the bed. He could still feel the slickness from the charm, and the need to have Viktor filling him was overwhelming. Rolling off the man onto his hands and knees, he waited with bated breath for Viktor to continue where they’d left off. What he wasn’t expecting was the flat of Viktor’s tongue against this arse. 

Ron let out a loud whine of pleasure, as Viktor slowly worked his tongue past the tight ring of muscle whilst his right hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him to full hardness. Ron moaned as Viktor pressed him down onto the mattress, hoisting his arse high up into the air as his tongue continued to tease and probe, fluttering over his prostate.

“More...please…” Ron panted as he wriggled his arse against the invading muscle.

“Patience, my love,” Viktor crooned as he stroked his hand up Ron’s sides to nibble on his ear.

“Viktor...please,” Ron begged as he tried to impale himself on the man’s cock. 

“You are so beautiful. I am so glad you replied to my letter to Herminny,” Viktor said smacking Ron’s arse with the flat of his hand, making the redhead jump and gasp in response. 

“Do we have to talk about Hermione, right now?” Ron groaned, as the thought of his best friend, caused his cock to soften slightly.

“What should we talk about, hmm?” Viktor asked, flipping Ron onto his back so he could look into Ron’s blue eyes. 

Ron wrapped his legs around Viktor’s waist, pulling him flush to his body, reaching up to kiss across the man’s jaw and throat as he rutted against him. The whole room smelt of sex and sweat. It was a heady mix that drove him mad. 

“Love me. I want to be loved,” Ron said as he pressed his lips against Viktors, pouring his emotions, wants and desires into it. 

Ron moaned into Viktor’s mouth as his lover thrust into him slowly. Together they built up a steady rhythm. Climbing steadily higher and higher until Ron crested the wave of pleasure, digging his heels into the back of Viktor’s thighs as he came, back arched. 

Just like he did in the dungeons, Viktor came with a loud shout, and groan of pleasure, twitching in ecstasy only just stopping himself from crushing Ron. He rolled onto his back, pulling Ron against his chest. They laid there in the silence, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

“How long will you be staying?” Ron asked quietly. The question had been plaguing him since they decided to travel back to London. 

“I would not have agreed to come here. To be with you if I didn’t wish for us to be forever,” Viktor replied as he ran his fingers through Ron’s short hair.

“Do you mean that?” Ron asked, sitting up, eyes shining brightly as he felt his heart fill with hope and wonder. 

“Of course,” Viktor said with a soft smile as he kissed Ron gently on the lips.

Ron was just about to entice Viktor into another round when he heard the front door open. The sound of Hermione’s heels on the hardwood floor had Ron jumping up off the bed, dragging his dressing gown off the back of the door and slipping it on. Tying the cord around his waist, he opened the door a blush on his face as he took in her wide, surprised eyes to discover their living room in disarray. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company,” Hermione said as she stepped over a pair of boxers, with a blush reflecting Ron’s own.

“I’ve only just got back. I wasn’t expecting you,” Ron replied as he set about collecting the various garments into his arms. 

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Hermione said, ignoring his statement, in favour of investigating his person.

“That might be because of me, Herminny,” Viktor said, revealing himself wrapped up in a sheet as he stood in the doorway of Ron’s bedroom.

“Viktor! What a surprise! I...I don’t understand. What are you doing here?” Hermione asked, rushing over to embrace him.

“I think that is obvious,” Viktor replied, kissing her politely on the cheek as his eyes sort out Ron’s.

“You mean...you and...and Ron?” Hermione queried as she spun around to look at Ron curiously, “But...but...how? When?”.

“That is a long story involving warring post-owls,” Ron said cryptically, making Viktor chuckle in amusement. 

“Right, right. I see. Well, I just popped in to see if you were okay. Your mother was growing concerned when you failed to turn up for Sunday dinner,” Hermione said with a small smile. Obviously upset that Viktor wasn’t here to see her.

“I’m fine, Hermione. Viktor invited me over to Bulgaria. I had some annual leave, so I went. He’s moving in with me so you’ll have plenty of time to visit,” Ron said matter-of-factly, wishing she would leave them in peace.

_ She had her life. Why did she always have to stick her oar into his? He was perfectly capable of looking after himself. He already had a mother. He didn’t need two. _

“Look, Mione. I appreciate you coming over, but you can’t keep just walking in like this. You don’t live here anymore,” Ron said firmly depositing the clothes in his arms onto a chair. 

“Excuse me for caring, Ronald. In case you have forgotten, you are still my friend, and I care about you. I won’t bother in the future if you’re going to act like a child,” Hermione bit back, bristling with anger.

“Care about me? Hermione, you have been so far up your own arse since you started dating Maloy that you seem to forget that us little people exist. Just go back to your fancy house, and fancy life and forget about us. I know that’s what you’d rather do,” Ron shouted, storming past Viktor into the bedroom, pushing the door to.

“Maybe I will!” Hermione’s shrill voice said in response. 

He heard her heels clacking loudly across the floor, followed by the loud slam of the front door. The feel of Viktor climbing into bed beside him seemed to quench the building fire inside of him.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that. Sometimes, she just gets under my skin. Whenever I get with anyone, Hermione has this insatiable need to pick at my relationships until I end up questioning every little thing. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was jealous that I’m spending my time with someone who isn’t her. She left us to get with Malfoy of all people,” Ron told him, huffing in annoyance.

The feel of Viktor running his fingers through his hair as he silently listened was more than anything he could have wanted. This soft, quiet domestic scene caused a swarm of butterflies to erupt in the pit of his stomach. Rolling onto his stomach, he looked into Viktor’s calm face, unable to figure out what he had done to deserve such a kind and understanding man in his life. 

“Sometimes people yearn for things they cannot have. Herminny is a lot more sensitive than she makes herself out to be. I think that perhaps, she needs you more than you need her,” Viktor said diplomatically, as he tried to explain Hermione’s reasoning. 

“Do you think?” Ron asked as he pulled the covers up over them, snuggling into Viktor’s chest, eyes drooping shut.

~*~

A month later, and all of Viktor’s things had finally been unpacked. It had taken a bit of juggling to figure out where to put things. Ron grinned when Viktor placed a framed picture of the two of them up on the mantelpiece, signifying that this was finally their place. Their home. Tonight, they would be hosting their first-ever gathering; a housewarming party to be exact. Ron’s mum had been over the moon to discover that he was seeing someone new. That it was Viktor had surprised everyone, except Harry and the Twins who took great joy in teasing him about it.

“What time is your family coming over?” Viktor asked as he sat beside Ron on the sofa, stretching his arm across the back.

“Six. Why?” Ron asked as he turned to put his legs up on Viktor’s lap.

“That gives us two hours, no?” Viktor replied, licking his lips, as he trailed a hand up his leg.

Ron grinned, eyes darkening with lust as he slid off the sofa in front of the Bulgarian. He slid his hands up the main’s thighs, humming at the strong muscles he could feel beneath his clothes. Ron deftly popped open Viktor’s trousers, pulling the zip slowly over his hardening member. The dark, hungry look in Viktor’s eyes spurred him on as he pulled the man free from the confines of his underwear. He watched Viktor lift his hips and shove his clothes down his legs before pulling them off. He groaned when Viktor bent at the waist, pulling him by his hair into a bruising kiss.

“You better make this worthwhile, Ron,” Viktor said with a primal look as he sat back, cock in hand.

“When do I not?” Ron quipped in reply, as he licked a hot, wet trail from the head of Viktor’s cock down to his balls.

Ron sucked each one gently in his mouth, eliciting a long, deep moan from his lover as he stroked Viktor’s length. He released him with a wet pop and began kissing the inside of Viktor’s thighs. 

“Mmm, such a good boy Ron. You have such a perfect, filthy mouth. Take me in,” Viktor instructed, tugging on Ron’s hair.

Ron let out a small squeak of pleasure, as he began licking at the swollen head moaning at the salty-sweet taste of precum coating his tongue. Wrapping his mouth around him, Ron took Viktor deep into his mouth, relaxing his throat before taking him further. He kept his eyes firmly on Viktor’s face, watching every microexpression and listening to every change of breath and sound that left his lips. When Viktor twitched in his mouth, he withdrew his lover’s cock from his mouth.

“You taste so good, Vik.” 

“I don’t remember telling you to stop,” Viktor growled, making Ron shiver in desire as he wrapped his hand around his own cock, pumping himself with short hard thrusts.

“Come for me, Vik. I want to feel you coming in my mouth,” Ron said as he wrapped his hand around Viktor’s guiding his movements. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the head of Viktor’s cock, eyes begging silently.

Viktor groaned loudly as he came coating Ron’s tongue and chin with his seed. He watched with a smug expression on his face as Ron licked his softening cock clean before running his tongue across his chin, making sure not to miss a drop. 

~*~

The clock in the hall chimed five, making them both jump in surprise. Viktor helped Ron to his feet, as the redhead tidied up his lover’s appearance, ignoring his own aching need for later. 

Ron couldn’t have been more proud of how easily Viktor seemed to fit in with his family as he watched the dark-haired man mingle with their guests. He leant against the wall into the kitchen, a butterbeer in his hand.

So this is what it felt to be loved, and cherished. To have everything in his life come full circle. Ron smiled and raised his bottle in a toast to his fallen brother, who without him, he would never have met the love of his life. 

“Thank you, Fred. For everything,” Ron whispered as he swigged at his drink, enjoying the sweet caramel flavours mingling with the salty taste of Viktor. 

He looked up when he saw Harry walked towards him, a massive smile on his face and Susan Bones on his arms. Well, that was a surprise, but he was glad that Harry had found someone who complimented him. They hugged tightly, clapping each other on the back before Ron stooped to press a delicate kiss to Susan’s cheek. 

“Ron, you remember Susan, right?” Harry said beaming at how well Ron and Susan seemed to click.

“Of course. How is your Aunt?” Ron said, engaging the girl in conversation. 

“She’s doing well actually. Harry and I went over for tea last Sunday to tell her the good news,” Susan said beaming as she looked up at Harry in adoration.

“What good news?” Ron asked, looking between the two in mild confusion, as they shared a look.

“Susan’s pregnant,” Harry said beaming proudly as he wrapped an arm around Susan’s shoulders.

“Mate, that is fantastic! Congratulations!” Ron shouted, drawing the attention of their guests.

Noticing the audience, Ron grabbed a spoon from the kitchen, clinking it against the glass of his Butterbeer.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE?” Ron shouted as he stepped into the middle of the crowd. 

“There are two things I would like to say. The first is to say a massive congratulations to my lifelong friend Harry Potter on the very splendid news that he is to be a father!” Ron said, embarrassing his friend who blushed scarlet whilst Susan looked positively ecstatic.

“The second is this,” Ron said, swallowing roughly as he walked over to Viktor and got down on one knee. He withdrew a small black box from the pocket of his jeans.

“Viktor, you are the most amazing, kind-hearted and wonderful man I have ever met. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, and so I was hoping that you would do me the greatest honour in becoming my husband?” Ron asked ears tinged pink, as the entire room fell silent, all eyes on them.

“I was hoping the same thing, Ron,” Viktor said, pulling his own ring box out of his pocket.

Ron laughed in amusement as he got to his feet. “Well, I think you know what my answer will be. What about you?” Ron asked him, eyes shining with happiness.

“A hundred times, yes,” Viktor said grinning wildly as he pulled Ron in for a kiss.

Everyone broke out into cheers, as they applauded. The sound of Molly bursting into tears, had Ron rolling his eyes in amusement as he turned to embrace his mother. She instantly began talking about wedding plans making both men falter. 

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow, mum. Let’s just have tonight, yeah?” Ron said sweetly as he handed her a fresh glass of wine. 

Ron felt like he was walking on air for the rest of the night. Even after collapsing into bed after a good hard celebratory fuck, Ron found nothing could dampen his spirits. He twisted the gold band that adorned his left hand and grinned. 


End file.
